


Use Your Imagination

by ladyxdaydream



Category: Naruto
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Modern AU, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-06-24 17:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19728679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxdaydream/pseuds/ladyxdaydream
Summary: Having been a flight attendant for years, Iruka was used to attending to all sorts of people.An incognito celebrity,  though? That was a first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an anonymous reader on tumblr.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, whoever you are ;D
> 
> Um?? This was supposed to be capped at 2k, but here I am, 5k later.....

“I _knew_ I recognized him,” Deidara squealed, tilting his phone towards Iruka to show him a photo. “It would totally make sense. The eye wrap must be concealing the scar. I’ve read they cover it up with make-up for most of his movies.”

“Maybe,” Iruka said, glancing at the photo, not really that interested. “But it’s hard to say when we only have _one eye_ to go off of.”

“And the silver hair beneath his baseball cap,” Deidara added, leaning over to look down the aisle. “It’s _gotta_ be him.”

“Well, if it is, he’s obviously gone to great lengths to make sure he’s not recognized. Don’t ruin it for him by being a fangirl,” Iruka warned.

Deidara made a wounded, strangled, sort of noise.

“Iruka, I just caught the most famous, not to mention _sexiest_ , actor of our generation checking out your ass, and you don’t even _care?”_ he said, looking offended.

“So? Plenty of passengers check out my ass.”

“Plenty of _nobodies_. I wonder why he’s not on a private flight?” Deidara mused, twirling the end of his long blonde ponytail around his finger.

“Who knows,” Iruka said, pushing Deidara forward, before grabbing onto the beverage cart _._ He gave him a stern look. “Keep yourself under control, please.”

\--

Since it was clear Deidara wasn’t going to be able to speak to the man, given the wide eyes he was pleading at Iruka with, Iruka shoved the cart forward, ramming Deidara in the knees so he could do it himself.

“Would you like anything to drink, sir?” Iruka asked, a fake smile plastered to his face. “Water, Coke products. Apple or tomato juice.”

“Do you have anything stronger than that?” the man asked, peering at him with his one exposed eye.

“We don’t serve alcohol on this flight, no.”

“Water’s fine then.”

“Would you like ice?”

“Please.”

Iruka grabbed a plastic cup and scooped ice into it, before looking at Deidara expectantly.

_“Dei.”_

The water bottles were kept on Deidara’s side of the cart.

“Oh, r-right,” Deidara said nervously, crouching down to grab one, before handing it off to Iruka. Iruka tried his best not to roll his eyes—the water wasn’t for _him_.

Iruka snatched the water, before handing the glass of ice, along with the bottle, off to the man before them.

\--

The service button lit up over the actor’s seat.

Deidara looked at Iruka in a panic.

“Go.”

“ _But…_ ”

“I have to bring this coffee to a different passenger. _Go_.”

They were shorthanded today. Usually, there were three of them, but Konan had called in sick.

Deidara took a deep breath and headed over.  
  


“How can I help you?”

Kakashi looked up at the blonde man, before peering behind him.

Well, that’s not who he was hoping for.

“I forgot to ask for a straw. For my water.” Helooked at his cup, which sat untouched.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”  
  


Kakashi wanted to ask if he could tell the cute attendant with the dark hair to bring it, but he restrained himself. 

  
  
—

“He wanted you,” Deidara hissed, when he made it to their quarters, reaching into a drawer in the beverage cart that was now tucked away. “How embarrassing.”

“ _What?_ He said that?”

“He didn’t have to. Next time, _you’re_ going.”

Iruka watched as Deidara handed the man his straw, before the blonde went to acknowledge another passenger who had just hit their light at the front of the plane.

He saw the actor lift his hood over his head, and grab near his face, which Iruka could only assume was to pull down his mask.

\--

When Iruka responded to the actor’s next light call, his hood was down, mask back in place. He had to admit, there was something oddly erotic about the whole thing. The mask appeared to be seamlessly connected to his undershirt, like extended black body armor. He pushed the image of that tight fabric out of his mind, and what it could do to a muscled chest.

“Do you have anything to eat?”

“We have complimentary bags of peanuts,” Iruka said. _With a whole seven peanuts inside._

“Ah, I’m allergic.”

“We also have pretzels, or crackers,” he offered instead.

“I can’t have gluten.”

Iruka huffed. Celebrities and their stupid diets.

“Sorry. I know it’s inconvenient. I have Celiac’s.”

Oh, shit.

“No. It’s alright. I’m… sorry we can’t be more accommodating,” Iruka said, feeling like an asshole, trying to make up for his initial reaction.

Iruka gave him a small, apologetic smile, not sure what else to say, before heading back to the flight attendant deck. He heard the service light go off again, only to turn around and see it was the same man. He reluctantly went back.

“Is there anything I can watch?” the man asked, looking at the blank screen installed into the headrest in front of him.

“Since the travel time is less than three hours, there is no in-flight entertainment.”

“What about the map?” the man asked, itching at his hairline beneath his baseball cap. “The one that shows the progress of the flight?”

“We don’t have that feature.”

“What am I suppose to do, then?” the man asked, a little hysterical.

“I don’t know, use your imagination,” Iruka snapped. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound so rude, but some of the other passengers had already wound him up: one woman inquired about the silver-haired man in front of him, not so subtly suggesting he might be a terrorist due to his mask; he had helped soothe a bawling baby into submission, who subsequently vomited on his trousers; _and_ he had settled an aggressive argument between two men—one reclined his chair back, and the other felt cramped in response. He had to rearrange passengers until the one who wanted to recline, sat in front of a small child, who didn’t need as much leg room.

Not much of his patience remained.

Besides, it wasn’t _his_ fault the airline was cheap. If the actor was so famous, why wasn’t he flying first class on a fancier airline where he could have all the alcohol, catered food, and entertainment he wanted?

Just as he was about to leave, an unexpected bout of turbulence hit, causing the man to grab onto Iruka’s wrist. He moved his eyes down to the contact, ready to go _off_ —this wouldn’t be the first time he was inappropriately touched by a passenger—but his eyes landed on a small cardboard box of pills on top of the man’s tray table.

He recognized the brand. He’d been prescribed the same ones, after he was mugged and stabbed in the back. His PTSD for months afterwards, was unmanageable.

He knew how strong they were. They were essentially tranquilizers.

All of a sudden, it clicked.

His incessant use of the service button. The edge to his voice.

The man must be afraid of flying.

“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to—,” he stammered, letting Iruka go.

“It’s alright,” Iruka said, softening, feeling a little tug on his heart. Even though he could see only a few inches of the man’s face, the vulnerability was hard to miss.

\--

Kakashi had wanted the man close, he knew he was overusing the service button, but he hadn’t meant to _touch_ him like that. It was involuntary. Reactionary. Invasive. Even so, the affect was undeniable. It had calmed him down immensely. His palm still tingled, remembering the warmth of his wrist.

He glanced towards the back of the plane, seeing him in conversation with the younger, blonder attendant, who Kakashi had a feeling knew who he was. If the other man knew, he showed no indication that he did, which was refreshing. Attractive, even. Too many people fawned over him, when he preferred to be treated like everyone else. In fact, he’d be happy if no one noticed him at all. Except for that cute flight attendant, maybe.

The fasten seatbelt sign dinged overhead, and Kakashi immediately squirmed in his seat, listening to an announcement that’d they’d be experiencing turbulence for the next 15 minutes.

He glanced at his pills.

_Fuck it_.

He knew he shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach, it tended to make him sick. If he threw up, it defeated taking them altogether, but he also felt his panic starting to rise. He pulled down his mask and shot two back with his remaining water.

A hard bump had him clutching at the armrest.

_These aren’t going to kick in fast enough._

He peered around the edge of his seat again. There was an empty row all the way in the back. He knew he shouldn’t do it; it was _stupid_ —

—he unclicked his seatbelt and hurried his way back, knocking his hips into the sides of seats as he went.

“Sir, the fasten seatbelt sign is still on, please return to your seat,” the cute man said, but Kakashi continued to pummel towards him.

“Sir, please, I need you to—,”

“I, uh, really have to use the bathroom,” Kakashi lied, finally making it to the back, suppressing a strange urge to hug the man, wanting to claim a reward for braving the aisle.

The man narrowed his eyes, searching him.

He must look like shit. He _felt_ like shit; sweaty and nauseas. It must have convinced the man he needed to _take_ a shit, because he relented, his face softening.

“Be as quick as possible.”

Kakashi whipped himself into the bathroom.

Well, now what? He didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom. How much time did he need to spend in here to make it convincing?

The plane dropped, along with Kakashi’s stomach. He ripped his mask down and pulled in a few hard breaths through his nose. It’d been less than a minute and he was already feeling claustrophobic. He braced himself on the small sink and looked in the mirror.

Damn, he was naturally pale but _this_ … he was happy for his disguise.

The plane gave a lurch, knocking Kakashi into a wall.

Ok, he had to get out of here. _Now_.

He fumbled with the door, before plopping himself into the nearest seat in that empty back row.

\--

Iruka watched as the man’s fingers tightened around the armrest a few feet from where he was stationed. He knew it was against protocol, but he couldn’t help himself. He unbuckled his belt, slid past the man’s knees, and dropped into the seat next to him.

“Are you doing alright?” Iruka asked, fastening his new seatbelt, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. The man looked _dreadful_.

“Perfect,” the man said, full of playful sarcasm.

Iruka couldn’t see his face, but judging by the way his eye curved, it looked like he might be smiling.

“Flying is the safest way to travel, you know,” Iruka said, trying to bring him some comfort. “Think about how many times you get into a car without a second thought, yet you’re infinitely more likely to get into a traffic accident. Statistically, flying is even safer than being asleep at home in your own bed.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Iruka let out a soft laugh.

“I suppose not.”

“I don’t know how you do this everyday.”

“ _Multiple times_ a day,” Iruka corrected him.

“ _Christ_ ,” the man cursed. “Hell no.”

The plane jostled again, and he watched the man’s hands scramble for purchase against the armrests. Iruka stifled a smile, along with a surprising urge to place his hand over his.

“Turbulence is normal,” Iruka began, peeling his eyes away from the stranger’s hand. “Expected. It’s caused by any manner of things—heat, wind, clouds, jet streams, mountains. It’s just a fact of life. It’s rarely dangerous.”

“Rarely implies there’s still possibility.”

Iruka shifted his weight, angling his body towards the man.

“There’s a series of workshops and classes I help teach, alongside one of our pilots, a couple times a year. It’s mostly for kids who are afraid of flying, but it puts adults at ease, too. You have to pay for it, but I’ll give you the jist of it, for free,” Iruka teased.

“Generous,” the man quipped, raising an eyebrow at him.

“We start with facts: Airplanes are designed to withstand a tremendous amount of force. There are people that fly into hurricanes, and stay there for _hours,_ to record meteorological readings, and they use a plane very similar to this one. The wings are flexible, like a fishing rod—they can flex up to 20 feet if they need to, so there’s no possibility they’ll be torn off.”

The man eyed him skeptically.

“ _Second_ , when you feel like you’re dropping hundreds or thousands of feet, it’s really just a fraction of an inch.”

“I don’t believe you at all,” the man laughed, lifting his head off the seat to look at Iruka better.

“I’m serious,” Iruka said, a smile sprawling across his face. “The plane’s instruments don’t even pick it up. The reason it feels so big, is because we’re traveling so fast. Think about speed bumps: hit one at 10 mph, you barely feel it. 30 mph, a different story. Imagine hitting one at 500 mph. It’s going to feel _a lot_ bigger than it actually is.”

“That’s… an ingenious analogy.”

“Thanks. I thought of it myself,” Iruka smirked.

“Ah, so people are paying for your brilliance.”

“ _Ha_ , no,” Iruka said, playing with the hem of his uniform. “What they’re really paying for, is the incredibly expensive _Jello_ mold demonstration.” he joked.

The man looked at him, confused.

“A lot of people have a hard time comprehending how something as heavy as an airplane, can be held up by air alone, but air gets thicker the faster you go. At high speeds, it’s _very_ thick. Like Jello. To demonstrate, we suspend a toy plane in a mold of Jello. No matter how hard you tap, or shake the jello, the plane won’t budge. It barely moves.”

The plane gave another roll.

The man gave him a look that said he wasn’t buying it.

“You know turbulence is worse at the back of the plane, right?” Iruka teased. “You should have stayed where you were.”

The man groaned.

“I’m sorry,” Iruka laughed. “I came here to make you feel better, and I’m only making it worse.”

“No,” the man said, drowsily, through a half-lidded eye. “You’re making it better. I like…” he exhaled slowly, “… your voice. I’m glad I… moved.”

Iruka widened his eyes in surprise, a blush coloring his cheeks, as he watched the man’s head loll to the side.

“Are you passing out or falling asleep?” Iruka asked, concerned.

“Pro’ly both,” he murmured.

“Should I be worried?”

The man gave the faintest shake of his head, before his chin dipped against his chest.

Iruka leaned over to peer at his exposed eye.

Well, his body was still erect, which meant he had fallen asleep, not blacked out.

Iruka tried his best to squeeze past him, returning to his spot next to Deidara, avoiding the blonde’s questioning eyes.

\--

Kakashi awoke with a shake to his knee, and a blurry vision of a handsome man leaning into his space, whose dark hair draped down to his shoulders.

_What kind of wonderful dream is this?_

But as his vision began to clear, he noticed the man was holding his carry-on. He flicked his eye to his surroundings.

_Oh, shit. I must have passed out._

Kakashi lifted his head from the seat, and went to wipe the drool from his mouth, pressing his mask into it instead, entirely forgetting it was there, the wet fabric now sticking to his skin.

_Well, that’s awkward_ , he thought.

It wasn’t until now that he realized he was the only one on the plane. Only him and this ridiculously good-looking flight attendant, who was staring at him, earnestly; his brown eyes warm and inviting. Maybe it was still a dream. He certainly _looked_ like something from a dream.

“You made it. We didn’t crash,” the man teased, the scar across his nose crinkling as he smiled, causing Kakashi’s heart to flip in his chest.

No, that wit was definitely real. He remembered. But what he _didn’t_ remember, was his gorgeous hair, now loose about his shoulders.

_I think I’m in love._

Kakashi blinked himself awake, stretching a little.

“Your hair,” Kakashi said, trying to appear unfazed, taking his bag. “I like it.”

_Better not to declare my love, that’s creepy._

“Oh,” the man blushed, tucking it behind his ear. “Thank you.”

_Hm?_ Kakashi thought, staring at him. _I made him blush?_

Kakashi decided to test his theory by abruptly standing up, bringing himself into the man’s personal space, causing his blush to deepen infinitely.

“We need to—we should—get off the plane,” he said, backing up an inch. “They have to start cleaning, and,” the man broke away from his eye contact to stare at his feet, swallowing.

_Incredible,_ Kakashi thought, his body humming with pleasure, insanely happy he was able to reduce the attendant to this blushy, flustered, _cute as hell_ , thing.

“Right,” Kakashi said, saving the man from having to say anything else. “Show me the way.”

\--

Iruka walked quickly out of the plane and into the terminal, desperate for actual air that hadn’t been pumped through a giant metal bird, and shared with 50 plus people.

He was still burning hot from the actor’s compliment. He always took his hair down at the end of a flight. It was a reflex, really. A ritual. A moment of relief for his scalp before he inevitably tossed it back up again.

Iruka was hyperaware of the man’s presence behind him, as he approached the exit that led into the airport.

Should he turn around and give some parting words? That’d be the polite thing to do, right?

“Would you like to … do you want to get dinner with me?”

Iruka froze, as a blush swept over his face again. He tried to will it away before the actor fell into step with him, but he failed miserably.

The man was looking at him expectantly. Iruka took a moment to think, but he really didn’t want to try and rationalize this. He knew if he did, he’d say no. However, he wasn’t going to go to some fancy ass restaurant. Iruka only had one night here, and he wanted to go to his favorite spot… whether or not this guy would be into, he didn’t know, but it’d be amusing to find out.

“Meet me at _Calypso_ at 6:00,” Iruka said.

\--

As far as Iruka could tell, he arrived before the other man. He greeted the bartender and some of the wait staff. They’d come to know him by his frequent visits, whenever his schedule brought him here. He picked a table and sat down, not needing to be shown to a seat.

The place was small, and not much more than a brightly painted, wooden shack. It sat right on the beach, with a deck that led out to the sand.

“Good to see you again Iruka, can I get you something to start?”

“A cold coconut water sounds incredible.”

It was humid and hot. Iruka had changed into a loose, linen shirt, with _maybe_ too many buttons left open, and a pair of salmon-colored chinos.

“Right away.”

When the waiter moved out of his line of sight, the actor was revealed to him.

He’d shed the eye wrap and baseball hat, looking like he freshly showered, his silver hair preened to perfection. The mask still covered the lower half of his face.

Iruka raised a finger to grab his attention.

“Do you mind if we switch to that table in the corner?” he asked, when he made it over.

He was pointing to one at the edge of the deck, no longer beneath the roof of the main restaurant.

Iruka watched as his eyes moved around, calculating. He could clearly see the scar, now that it was no longer hidden from view. This was definitely the famed Kakashi Hatake. Not that he had checked the internet before he came or anything…

“Not at all.”

When they made their way to the chosen table, Iruka put his hand on the back of one of the chairs, pulling it out to sit down.

“Uh, do you mind if I sit in that one?”

Iruka looked at him, amused.

“I’m being weird, I know,” Kakashi cringed.

When Iruka sat down in the other though, he understood. The chair Kakashi had wanted was facing the ocean, instead of the open restaurant. He’d have to take his mask down to eat, and this way, no one would see him. He hadn’t taken that into consideration.

“This place is cool,” Kakashi said, looking genuinely pleased. “I take it you’ve been here before?”

“Many times. I hope you like Trinidadian food.”

“I’ve never had it,” Kakashi said, opening up the menu.

“Well, this is a great place to give it a try. It’s actually run by Trinidadian immigrants, not westerners trying to imitate it.”

“Why don’t you order for us, then? I bet you know what’s good. I really have no idea.” Kakashi said, eyes roving over the menu like it was written in a different language (it wasn’t).

Iruka motioned the waiter over.

“All set, Iruka?”

“We’ll have the taro _callaloo_ , the stewed cassava and breadfruit, and the curried crab with rice,” he said, without even glancing at the menu.

“Excellent. Anything to drink?”

“Do you like beer?” Iruka asked, looking in Kakashi’s direction.

“Uh, yeah. But I can’t have it. Gluten.”

“Shit. I forgot, I’m sorry. Um,” Iruka pressed a finger to his mouth in contemplation. “Bring me a Stag, and something with rum for him.”

The waiter nodded, before collecting their menus and walking away.

“Iruka, huh?”

Right. They hadn’t exchanged names yet, even though Iruka already knew his.

“That’s me,” he smiled.

“Kakashi,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Iruka looked at it and laughed, before completing the shake.

“I… don’t know why I did that,” Kakashi said, scratching at the back of his neck.

“It was endearing,” Iruka said, unable to stop the smile pulling at his lips.

“So, Iruka. Have you always wanted to be a flight attendant?” Kakashi asked, as their drinks were dropped off.

Iruka let out a small laugh.

“No. I wanted to be a teacher, actually.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I grew up in foster care, and after high school my foster parents made it very clear they wouldn’t help put me through college. So, not wanting to take out loans and be shackled by debt, I took a different route. After a string of odd jobs, I eventually ended up as a flight attendant. I like to travel, so,” he shrugged.

“You know, when you told me to use my imagination earlier”—

Iruka dragged a hand down his face, stopping to cover his mouth for a second, before reaching for his beer.

“God, I’m sorry about that,” he laughed, nervously. “I was a complete ass.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to be pissed at you, since I was two seconds away from a panic attack,” Kakashi chuckled, “but I figured it wasn’t personal. Anyway, it led me to imagine that your job can’t be easy.”

Iruka was surprised by the statement. Most people thought his job was ideal. Glamorous even. Free travel all over the world. But it was exhausting. And passengers felt entitled to _everything_.

“It’s not. I’m tired of it, actually.”

This was the first time Iruka had admitted it out loud. It felt good, but scary. He didn’t have an alternate plan. Not yet. He couldn’t see Kakashi’s face, but Iruka somehow knew he was giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Aren’t you going to try your drink?” Iruka asked, taking another sip of his beer, opting to ignore his life’s future for a moment.

Shit. Maybe he didn’t like rum?

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I do?”

_Ah_. Is that why he was waiting to reveal? Well, Iruka wasn’t going to lie.

“I already know.”

Kakashi looked at him in disbelief.

“For how long?”

“10 minutes into the flight.”

This seemed to surprise him even more.

“Damn. This disguise usually works.”

“To be fair, it was my co-worker who figured it out. He’s… a big fan of yours,” Iruka smirked. That was putting it mildly, considering Deidara had a picture of him in his phone, ready to reference, despite not having access to the internet at that moment in time.

“They’re always the ones who figure it out.” Kakashi paused. “And you, are you a fan?” he teasingly asked, arching an eyebrow at him, before lowering his mask to the base of his neck, and taking a sip of his drink.

Oh.

Well.

He was now.

_Hot damn_.

Iruka had admittedly seen him on screen, but he didn’t remember him looking like _that_. He didn’t remember much of the movie either, if he was being honest.

“I, um,” Iruka swallowed, distracted. Should he flatter him? No. Best to be honest. “I’m not really a fan of Hollywood blockbusters.”

That seemed to satisfy Kakashi, oddly.

“Me either. I actually fired my agent last week. I told him I wanted to switch my focus to independent films. He didn’t agree. So.” Kakashi shrugged, “I’m meeting up with my new agent tomorrow to go over some scripts.”

Iruka turned that over in his mind.

“You know what else I was imagining, before those pills zonked me out?”

“Hm?”

“What it’d be like to go on a date with you.”

Iruka blushed, mid swallow of his beer, coughing a little.

“And what did it look like?”

“Something like this,” Kakashi said, smiling at him, as their food arrived.

Is that was this was? A date? Iruka hadn’t really stopped to consider. The thought made him nervous, which was silly, considering they’d been on this “date” for almost an hour already.

\--

Several drinks later, Kakashi settled the tab, and they decided to take a walk along the boardwalk above the beach. The sun had started to set, basking everything in a purple-orange hue. The heat had let up slightly, with a nice breeze rolling in off the ocean.

Iruka breathed in deep. He loved the smell of the sea. He loved the way the salt felt in his hair, on his skin. He’d get up early tomorrow morning, and go for a swim.

“So,” Iruka began, a little tipsy. He came to halt, leaning against the wooden railing, disturbing a few birds. “How’d you imagine this date would end?”

“Which version you want? PG-13 or R-rated?”

Iruka blushed. “PG-13, please.”

“We’d make out a little, before going our separate ways, with the promise of a second date.”

Iruka smiled.

“I think I can manage that,” he said, lifting himself off the railing. The making out, sure. The second date, he didn’t know. But not because he wasn’t interested.

Kakashi turned around, leaning his back against the wood. Iruka stepped into his space, reached for the fabric of his mask, and pulled it down, placing his lips upon his.

Iruka felt as if every bone in his body had turned molten. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed someone like this—gentle, exploring, shy. A kiss laced with genuine interest, instead of the hot, dirty collisions that came with one-night stands. It was immensely pleasing. He wanted more.

Iruka moved his mouth against Kakashi’s for a few breaths, before swiping at Kakashi’s bottom lip with his tongue. Kakashi responded by clutching Iruka’s shirt near his hips, and opening his mouth with a small gasp. Iruka’s head spun when their tongues hit; he moved a hand from where it was resting against Kakashi’s chest, to the back of his head, entangling his fingers in the silver strands, forcing Kakashi’s head to tilt to the side, so he could deepen the kiss. Kakashi let out an encouraging groan, as their tongues slid together, his hands now clutching Iruka’s waist, his thumbs slipping beneath Iruka’s clothes, to push and hook into the divets of his hipbones. The pressure made Iruka’s pants grow distractingly tight. He needed to stop this, _now_ , because he was seconds away from grinding up against a celebrity in public.

Iruka pulled back, and lifted himself from Kakashi’s body.

Kakashi’s eyes were as lidded as Iruka imagined his must be.

“ _Wow_ ,” Kakashi mused, licking his lips, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. Iruka could see it clearly, since the mask was still slouched against his neck, causing his already rapid heart, to pick up speed.

Wow was _fucking_ right.

“If this is where using my imagination gets me, I should do it more often. Thanks for the great advice,” Kakashi taunted him.

“ _Asshole_ ,” Iruka laughed, pushing him on the chest.

Kakashi caught his hand and pulled him in close.

“So, about that second date...”

“I’m only here for the night. I have another flight tomorrow morning. I won’t be back in Malibu for another two weeks at the least.” Iruka said, reluctantly.

“How about we start by exchanging numbers?”

Iruka handed his phone to Kakashi. When Kakashi finished adding his number, and gave the phone back, Iruka went to move further away, but Kakashi wrapped his arms loosely about his waist, keeping him at arm’s length.

“Iruka, I’m going to be honest here. I like you. A lot. But it’s not easy to date me. If you don’t want your life invaded, your privacy breached, then I respect that. But it’ll happen, if we continue to see each other,” Kakashi’s eyes moved somewhere past him, and Iruka moved his to follow, only to find a camera lens pointed directly at his face.

His hands rushed to Kakashi’s wrists, freeing himself from his grip.

“ _Jesus, Kakashi_. I’m sorry. Are you even out?” Iruka asked, panic and worry etched into his face.

Kakashi laughed.

“How is it that your first concern is _me?”_

Kakashi shook his head in disbelief, before pulling Iruka back in.

“I am out, for the record, even if the media refuses to see it. The amount of times they referred to the last person I dated as a ‘bromance’…” Kakashi frowned. “It’s pathetic.”

Iruka sighed, still feeling uncomfortable.

“I understand if you don’t want to see me again. It’s a lot, I know. More than any person should have to deal with.”

There was a sadness in his voice. A hollowness. Iruka couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be famous. To have your every move watched. Exploited. It must be terrible. Lonely. Did he really want to throw himself into that?

Iruka studied the man in front of him, his whole body still tingling from their kiss.

Yes, yes he did.

\--

Iruka was drinking a coffee at Starbucks, a hundred feet or so away from his departure gate, when a newspaper was smacked onto the table in front of him.

Iruka pulled it to him.

****

**_HEARTTHROB KAKASHI HATAKE FINDS SOLACE IN THE ARMS OF AN EXOTIC STRANGER_** in big bold type. _A look at his cozy beachfront night._

_Exotic?_ Iruka scoffed at the offensive term. He knew it was referring to the contrast of their skin tones, as he was much darker than Kakashi. It was clearly apparent in the photos, and there were plenty of them.

There were pictures of the two of them drinking and having dinner at Calypso. A picture of them walking side by side on the beach. A picture of them making out against the railing. A picture of Iruka in Kakashi’s arms on the boardwalk.

_“Explain!”_ Deidara said. “Before I faint.”

\--

While they were taxying on the runway, Iruka’s phone went off in his pocket: A text from Kakashi _._ Iruka smiled, and then stifled a yawn. He’d spent the better part of the night talking on the phone with said person.

_Did you see the tabloids this morning?_

_I did,_ Iruka typed out. _Deidara brought it to my attention. Your hands were suspiciously close to my ass, by the way, in that last photo._

_You have a fantastic ass. I was restraining myself. It was the first thing I noticed about you._

_I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered._

_Both?_

Iruka laughed.

_We still on for our skype date tonight?_

_Yes,_ Iruka wrote. _I’ll text you when I land._

_Fly safe._

He smiled to himself, before turning his phone on airplane mode.

It wasn’t an ideal second date, but it was a date, none-the-less. And Iruka was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If want to see more of this AU, drop me a note in the commments! I have the material for a sequel.
> 
> Can you imagine Iruka dealing with paparazzi? Lmao


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here I am, with the second part, as requested! Though you may have noticed that the count is 3 ;D I just couldn't fit everything I wanted here. 
> 
> Note: There is a small conversation at the beginning of this chapter that reads as problematic. That was my intention. As a queer person, I'm simply mirroring some of my own experiences. The LGBTQ+ community is in no way perfect. There is a lot of work to do yet. 
> 
> Also, uh, the rating went up to Explicit. Just... FYI. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Iruka thrummed his fingers against the check out counter, eyeing a magazine on the rack in front of him, as his lip balm and bottled frappuccino moved it’s way down the conveyor belt.

“Will that be all for you today?”

Iruka chewed on the inside of his cheek, silently engaged in a war with himself. He heaved a heavy sigh, before snatching the magazine from the shelf. The cashier startled when he slapped it on the counter.

“Yes, that’ll be all,” Iruka said, trying to contain his ridiculous blush as Kakashi’s half naked form glinted at him from the glossy cover.

“You know,” the cashier leaned in a little. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I bought a copy, too,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “We can dream, right?” 

She handed off his paper bag with a wink.

Iruka burned all the way up to his ears. Was this what he’d been reduced to? A fucking teenybopper?

Not knowing what to say, Iruka gave her a cringe-y smile and a small shrug, before booking it out of there.

So the whole world got to see Kakashi shirtless before he did. 

Big deal.

He was a mature, cool adult…

…who apparently couldn’t resist taking a peek. 

* * *

Once inside his apartment, Iruka crashed his keys onto the counter, and collapsed into the couch, exhausted from his stint at the gym. After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, he slid his gaze to the paper bag he’d dropped onto the rug. Kakashi’s face could be seen peering above the top, taunting him. 

Iruka rolled over and grabbed it, before resuming his sprawl: one leg hooked over the back of the couch with his other ankle resting on the armrest. Now in the safety of his own space, he let himself observe the cover of the magazine with more scrutiny. Kakashi was shirtless, in tight black jeans, and fingerless leather gloves. One hand was clutching a motorcycle helmet, while the other was hooked through a front loop of his jeans, pulling down enough to show the sharp jut of his hipbone. 

Iruka’s mouth felt suddenly dry. 

Something about those gloves made Iruka shiver. He wondered what it’d feel like to remove them with his teeth, to feel the buttery leather against his tongue. He thought about how far he’d have to stick Kakashi’s finger in his mouth to reach the fabric near his knuckle in the first place…

Shit. And this was just the cover.

He opened the magazine with a little too much force, a rush of air sweeping across his flushed cheeks, flipping through the pages until he found Kakashi’s spread. 

It was absurd. _Ridiculous._ Especially the black and white photo of Kakashi in a thoroughly soaked white t-shirt. It clung to his skin in the most obscene way, showing the contours of his chest, his hardened nipples. 

Iruka let out a pathetic whimper.

This was borderline porn.

…and it was fucking hot.

Iruka squirmed on the coach, dropping his leg off the back of it in frustration. He briefly considered touching himself, before he wondered how many people around the world were doing the exact same thing to these images. For some reason, that thought was enough to persuade Iruka not to. After all, he knew the man himself; had made out with him very passionately in fact. In public. For everyone to see. And everyone did see, considering it was all over the tabloids the following day.

The memory made Iruka smile. If he was going to touch himself to anything, it’d be that. To the memory of Kakashi’s mouth moving feverishly against his own, his thumbs pressing hot against Iruka’s hips where Kakashi had gripped him. The way Kakashi had breathed _wow_ when they’d parted, his lips pink and swollen from kissing, his eyes hooded with obvious desire. 

Iruka didn’t need carefully edited photoshoots of Kakashi to get off—he had the real thing. 

It had been nearly a month since that night on the beach, and they had talked almost every day since. They had fallen into a routine of sorts: Kakashi called him at the same time on all of Iruka’s days off, so it didn’t surprise him when his phone buzzed in his pocket; he’d been waiting for it.

Iruka splayed the magazine across his abdomen before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“If I have to run through this script one more time today, I’m going to pull my hair out.”

Iruka smiled affectionately, picking at a thread on the back of the couch. 

“Please don’t. I love your hair.”

“Are you only into me for my looks, Iruka?”

Iruka dropped his gaze to the magazine on his stomach.

“Seeing as how I have the most recent issue of GQ in my possession, I’d say it’s a possibility.”

Kakashi let out a loud laugh on the other end.

“You actually bought that? I could have sent you a copy, you know. I would have signed my name with a big heart and everything. You could have tacked it to your wall. Kissed it before bed.”

Iruka would probably do more than kiss it—like lap at those water droplets rolling down Kakashi’s biceps. 

Stupid wet t-shirt photo.

“What can I say? I was curious…” Iruka said, cradling the phone against his shoulder while he reached for the magazine again. He grazed a finger against Kakashi’s abdomen on the page. “How much of this is airbrushed?” he teased.

“If you wanted nudes Iruka, all you had to do was ask.”

Iruka’s eyes blew wide, his face heating up.

“I—,” he stuttered.

Kakashi laughed at him again. 

“It’s not easy to render you speechless. Where’s the wit now, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” Iruka said, the endearment fluttering warm against his chest even though it was meant to be a jab. “Don’t you have to get back to work?” 

Kakashi groaned.

“Probably. Can you Skype in a few hours?”

“I should be around,” Iruka said, as if he’d be doing anything else besides waiting to talk to Kakashi again. 

“Good. I’ll let you know when I’m home.”

Kakashi did this a lot—call Iruka even if he only had 3 minutes to spare. It never failed to make him giddy, knowing Kakashi wanted to hear his voice no matter how brief. 

Iruka placed his phone on the coffee table after he hung up. He was contemplating what to make for dinner, when it dinged with a new message. It was a photo of Kakashi in the mirror of a nice, yet public bathroom, his shirt pulled up high enough to expose a nipple. He’d drawn a squiggly six pack of abs on himself with a simple black brush, followed by the caption _no filter_. 

A laugh escaped Iruka’s chest as he typed a response.

>> _*Whistles* damn, so sexy._

>> _Impressive, I know._

>> _I’d rather see the real thing,_ Iruka typed, his thumb hovering over the send button. While their conversations usually involved flirting, this was pushing it a little past what they’ve achieved so far. This was a veiled request. He hit send anyway. 

>> _Careful what you wish for, Iruka._

* * *

Iruka had just tossed the chicken into the wok when there was a knock on the door. He flipped the pan to toss the contents around, before going to answer it. He turned the knob with his back to the door, quickly heading for the kitchen again.

“Since when do you have manners? You never knock,” Iruka called over his shoulder from the kitchen, knowing who it was.

“Since I walked in on you naked last week. I’m scarred for life.”

“I have a great body, thank you very much,” Iruka said, with no trace of shame in his voice. 

“Uh, I know. That’s what I mean. Your ass comes into my mind unbidden. As a lesbian, that’s fucking confusing.” 

Iruka laughed as he grabbed two beers from the fridge. He popped the caps off, handing the extra over to Anko. 

“I’m surprised it took you so long to come over,” Iruka said, turning off the stove. “You’re usually here the minute onions hit the pan.”

“It wafts right into my apartment. If you want me to stop coming over for dinner, stop cooking.”

“Because that makes sense.” Iruka rolled his eyes. “What would I eat then?”

Anko sent him a suggestive smirk.

Iruka snorted.

“No, thanks.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

“I have tried it, when I was a teenager. Not my thing. I’d much rather have a dick in my mouth.”

“That’s still possible.”

“…Touché,” Iruka said, tipping his beer at her.

“I had a chick blow my strap last week, and it was hot as hell.”

“I’m sure it was,” Iruka said, as he shoved a plate of food in Anko’s direction, not really wanting to go into the details of his friend’s sex life, which she would explicitly recall if he let her.

She snatched up the plate, and they both walked over to the couch, sinking into it.   
  
“Come out with me tonight. I don’t wanna go alone,” Anko whined, lifting her legs to clunk her heavy boots on the coffee table. 

“I can’t. I’m skyping with Kakashi.”

“Skype your celebrity aft—,” she cut herself off, reaching for the magazine she noticed on the table. She balanced her plate precariously on the armrest to flip through the pages.

“Holy shit,” she hissed when she found it. She held the magazine open in Iruka’s direction, shaking it at him. “So, what? You can’t go out before your Skype date because you’re going to be too busy jacking off to said Skype date?”

“Fuck off,” Iruka laughed, snatching the magazine from her. 

“Come onnn. Come with me. You’re a great wingman. The ladies love you.”

Iruka scoffed. That was an overstatement. Most people paid him no mind, but he knew the ones Anko was referring to.

“Because they think I’m a trans man in a lesbian bar,” Iruka deadpanned.

“It’s the hair. And your pretty face,” She said, pinching Iruka’s cheek.

Iruka wrinkled his nose, and knocked her hand away. He didn’t have the energy to deconstruct that problematic statement right now. As much as he loved Anko, she had a lot of self-work to do. 

Anko cackled at him. 

“What’s the big deal anyway? You’ve got something against trans people?”

“Of course not,” Iruka shot her a glare. “Except that I’m not trans. The women who hit on me are clearly chasers. It’s fucked up.” 

“Um, alright. Make yourself ugly then?” Anko suggested, perching a piece of broccoli between her chopsticks in thought. “If that’s even possible? Or tell them you have a boyfriend. I mean, at this point, thats not really a lie…” She snatched the broccoli with her teeth, before bringing the bowl to her mouth to shovel in a few more bites. 

“I _will_ stab you if you don’t stop saying stupid shit,” Iruka threatened, jabbing his own chopsticks in her direction.

Besides, whatever was going on between himself and Kakashi didn’t have a label yet. They were obviously something, but exclusivity and serious dating hadn’t been discussed because why would it? They’d only met once, for fuck’s sake. That didn’t mean Iruka hadn’t thought about it though, as much as he was trying to _stay in the moment_. A mantra his therapist had tried to hammer into his brain. 

It worked, until it didn’t. 

Iruka tried to slow the onslaught of coming thoughts before he gave himself a headache.

“Just for an hour, pleeeease,” Anko begged. “That’ll be enough time for me to scope someone out.”

Iruka huffed out a heavy sigh. 

“Fine. But only if you buy my drinks.” 

He could use something to ease the new tension he’d just created.

“Deal.”

* * *

Iruka clicked on the lamp in his bedroom almost 3 hours later. He ended up staying out much longer than he had anticipated. Apparently, he _really_ needed to dance—at least that’s what the tequila had told him… and he never could resist Beyonce. He felt bad about keeping Kakashi waiting, but it wasn’t as if he blew him off. Iruka had kept him updated on his whereabouts, and Kakashi hadn’t seemed to mind.

Iruka threw his jacket onto a chair in the corner. He washed his face before plopping on the bed with his laptop in tow. When he logged onto Skype, he saw Kakashi’s icon active, and immediately hit the call button. 

Kakashi came into view a moment later, seemingly half way through a bottle of wine. Iruka could see it resting on the table beside him. 

“I see you’ve been busy,” Iruka teased.

“It was rude of you to keep me waiting so long. I had to keep myself occupied somehow.”

“Mmm. And what else have you been doing to keep yourself occupied?” Iruka flirted, twirling a stray hair from his ponytail around his finger.

“Watching your dance video on loop,” Kakashi smirked.

Iruka’s eyes almost popped out of his head. That’s right. He had sent Kakashi a 10 second video of himself on the dance floor—something Anko had filmed and convinced him to do—which he conveniently forgot about until right now. 

Iruka tried to talk around the lump in his throat.

“And?”

“You know how to move,” was all Kakashi said. 

Iruka laughed.

“Most people do.”

“Not like that they don’t.”

Iruka felt his cheeks heat. He fished around in his mind for something to change the subject, but his alcohol muddled brain came up blank.

That is, until he looked at Kakashi again.

“Is that… a _Yuri On Ice_ shirt?” Iruka asked, squinting at the screen. He wasn’t a huge anime fan, but he did enjoy it. Most of the ones he watched came as recommendations, since he didn’t dare try to sieve through the genre himself. There was just so. much. _Yuri On Ice_ had been one of his favorites, though. He may have harbored a crush on Viktor Nikiforov for months afterwards. He tried not to think about how the man on the other side of his screen bared some resemblance. 

Kakashi bowed his head, and for a second, Iruka thought maybe he had fallen asleep by the way he stilled, but then he lifted his head and started to softly sing.

 _“Can you hear,”_ he began reverently. _“my heart beat?”_

“Oh my god,” Iruka whispered, hardly believing what he was witnessing. 

_“tired of feeling, never enough…I… close my eyes, and tell myself… that my dreams will come true.”_

Iruka snickered, wondering how many people would pay to see the famous Kakashi Hatake being a _fucking nerd._

…Probably a lot, actually. 

Kakashi grabbed the wine bottle and sang into it like a mic. 

_“You set my heart on FI-RE!”_ Kakashi pointed at Iruka with his free hand, before bringing it to clutch at his chest. 

“Stop it,” Iruka laughed, though he could watch this forever, a warm wave of affection washing over him.

Kakashi got up, and spun himself around in what Iruka could only assume was an imitation of ice skating.

 _“Don't stop us now, the moment of truth… WE! WERE BORN TO MAKE HISTORY!”_ Kakashi sang loudly, before plopping down on his bed somewhere in the distance. 

…Maybe Kakashi was more than halfway through that bottle of wine. 

“Come back here,” Iruka called from the screen, an unexpected ache emerging in his chest from the loss of visual. “You’re too far away.”

“ _You’re_ too far away. _You_ come here.” Kakashi replied, his voice sounding as if it were coming from the far end of a tunnel. Iruka heard the sound of Kakashi smacking the bed next to him.

Another wave of heat passed over him, this time something more charged. 

Kakashi rolled off his bed with a groan. As he walked towards the computer screen, he stripped off his shirt and let it fall to the floor, giving Iruka a full view of Kakashi’s upper body. 

Okay. So his abs weren’t air brushed. They were very much real. Good to know.

Kakashi plopped into his chair in front of the screen again.

“All that fake ice skating made me sweat.”

“You mean all that flailing around you did,” Iruka said, biting his lip to stifle a laugh.

Kakashi giggled. _Giggled._

“I almost ate shit. My socks slipped on the hardwood.” He rubbed a hand over his flushed cheeks, before he fixed Iruka with a glassy stare. 

“You’re wearing too much clothing,” he announced, very seriously. 

Iruka’s stomach dropped. 

“Well, I’m not the one who overheated by being an idiot.”

“I gave you a performance,” Kakashi said, petulant. “Return the favor?”

Iruka’s mouth fell open with a soft sound. 

“I already gave you one, if I remember right.”

He had sent that video after all. 

“Hm. I guess you did. Those _hips,_ ” Kakashi tsked with his tongue. “are sinful. Eros incarnate.”

“Oh my god. You’re _such_ a loser.”

Kakashi let out a loud laugh. 

“No more than you, since you clearly know what I’m talking about. Tell me Iruka, what is it that you like about _Viktuuuuuuri?_ ” he purred.

“Shut. Up.”

“Is it the celebrity/nobody relationship? Because we’re kind of simil—,”

“I’m going to smack you.”

“I’m afraid I’ll like that too much. Pick another punishment.”

Iruka stammered unintelligibly.

He watched as Kakashi threw his head back in laughter, bringing one hand to massage at his shoulder, before letting it drag slowly down. His fingertips brushed lightly across his own clavicle, lingering more than necessary. When he met Iruka’s eyes again, there was a new fire in them.

Fuck.

Iruka swallowed, his reaction instantaneous. As easy as it would be for this to turn into some sort of virtual sex, Iruka was not going to have his first time with Kakashi be through a screen. No way. He wanted his body too much for that. But how he was going to maintain his composure with Kakashi making eyes at him like that, he didn’t know.

“You’re the color of cinnamon,” Kakashi mumbled. “I don’t like cinnamon, but I’d lick you all over.”

Iruka didn’t know whether he wanted to roll his eyes, laugh, or be flattered; he did a combination of all three. It was such an odd thing to say. 

“Someone’s a flirtatious drunk.” 

Kakashi only laughed, and then said with a shrug, “I needed the courage. You’re intimidating.”

 _“What?!”_ Iruka exclaimed, flabbergasted. Shouldn’t it be the other way around…? Iruka was a flight attendant. Kakashi was a multimillion-dollar-blockbuster-breaking actor. But even with the facts in front of him, Iruka actually wasn’t intimidated. It didn’t phase him. 

“What if I visit you?” Kakashi asked, abruptly changing the subject. 

Iruka furrowed his brow. 

“You hate flying.”

“Yeah, but…I’d do it for you.” 

Memories of their first meeting flooded Iruka’s mind—Kakashi’s anxiety pills, the way he clutched onto the armrests in fear, his obvious need to not be left alone.

It made Iruka want to melt, knowing Kakashi would endure all of that just to see him.

As adorable as Iruka had found it at the time, he’d rather not submit Kakashi to copious amounts of stress if he had the power to do something about it. Flying was second nature to him now after all.

“Or…” Iruka proposed. “I could come see you.” 

Iruka had already checked his schedule, looking for an opportunity anyway. Not that he needed much of one, his schedule was the same every week: three days on, four off. He didn’t have much of a social life outside of work. 

“I’m off Wednesday through Saturday.” 

“Hmm…” Kakashi contemplated. “Today’s Saturday…” he said, a smile slowly creeping across his face.

“It is,” Iruka agreed, his mouth moving to reflect Kakashi’s. “I could be there by Wednesday evening.”

* * *

Iruka stood up to stretch his legs, shaking them out a bit. The flight from O’Hare to LAX was just shy of four hours. He removed his bag from the overhead compartment, and made his way down the aisle, running into the pilot when he reached the front of the plane.

“Oh, Iruka,” Kurenai smiled when she saw him. “Flying on your day off?” she asked, while loosening her tie. 

“Ah, yeah. I’m visiting a friend,” he said, not sure what else to say. Calling Kakashi a friend felt false, seeing as their intentions were anything but. 

Kurenai gave him a look like she wasn’t buying it anyway. If Iruka had to guess, he’d blame Deidara. It was almost always Deidara’s fault, no matter what the circumstance. 

“Have fun,” she said with a wink, giving his arm a squeeze.

Iruka smiled in response, before exiting the plane, anxious to leave. 

He didn’t make it very far. Kakashi was waiting for him inside the terminal, holding up a sign that read _iruka umami_ , out of all fucking things, as if he were a chauffeur picking up a client. 

Iruka scratched at his nose, feeling himself blush as he approached Kakashi.

“…umami?” he asked, incredulous. 

Kakashi looked down at the sign, then back at Iruka, amusement sparkling in his visible eye. 

He leaned towards Iruka, tugging his mask down.

“It means delicious,” he said in a low voice. “In Japanese.” 

“I know what it means,” Iruka said, snatching the sign.

Kakashi laughed, re-covering his face.

“Well, I thought it was clever,” he said, turning to follow Iruka out of the terminal. 

“Genius,” Iruka said over his shoulder, full of sarcasm, while trying his best to restrain a smile. He didn’t want to give Kakashi the satisfaction.

“So… Umami—,”

“—you just ruined any chance of getting laid.” 

Kakashi gasped, grabbing Iruka by the wrist, jolting him into a full stop.

“I deeply apologize,” Kakashi said, with his chin tucked to his chest.

Iruka smacked him playfully on the head with the stupid sign.

“Come on,” Iruka laughed, happy and relieved that the chemistry they had on the phone transferred over into the physical. “Let’s go.”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to change or freshen up?” Kakashi asked again, once they were in his (ridiculously fancy) car.

“Is this your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“No!” Kakashi laughed, waving his hands in front of him. “Not at all. You look amazing for someone who just got off a plane. It’s incredible, really. I was trying to be polite.”

“Try less,” Iruka said, with a sweet smile. “Because I’m starving, and I expect you to feed me.” 

* * *

“…I didn’t mean for you to _literally feed me_ , oh my god,” Iruka laughed, leaning back from the fork that was on it’s way to his mouth. He wanted to hide from all the stares—eyes and photographic lenses alike. It took a whole five minutes for Kakashi to be recognized once he pocketed his mask. 

“Poor choice of words, Iruka,” Kakashi smirked. “Open up.”

Iruka reluctantly took the morsel of steak, darting his eyes away from Kakashi’s. Despite all the teasing, there was something oddly sensual about being fed. Publicly. Or maybe it was because of the teasing. Whatever it was, the silence between them suddenly seemed so loud.

The tabloids were going to have a field day. 

“Do you have a food kink?” Iruka joked, trying to cut through the tension. He wiped at his mouth absently, feeling his cheeks heat up because Kakashi was just _staring_ at him. 

“Hm, not that I know of.” Kakashi said, finally looking away to pick at his plate again. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Iruka let out a nervous laugh, not sure what to say. He was usually such a confident flirt, but something about Kakashi made him lose his cool every now and again. 

“Is there anything you’d like to see tonight?” Kakashi asked, leaning back in his seat to sip at his wine. 

“I’m not a tourist,” Iruka teased. “I’ve been to LA a million times.” 

“Doesn’t mean you know the good spots.”

“Are you going to enlighten me, then?”

Kakashi huffed out a laugh, placing his empty wine glass back on the table.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. You like to swim, right?”

“What gave me away?” Iruka asked, finishing off his own wine.

“The way you looked at the ocean the last time we were together.”

Something about that made Iruka’s breath catch.

“… and you mentioned it on the phone once,” Kakashi continued. “It’s too late for the beach, but I’ve got a pool at my place. It’s a nice night for it.”

They stared each other down, both already imagining what the other would look like half naked in a suit. 

“Alright, if I could just drop my things at the hotel beforehand, that’d be great. I don’t want to end up checking in super late…”

Kakashi was only half-listening, his chin resting in his palm on the table, mesmerized by the man before him. When his brain finally caught up to Iruka’s words, his mind screeched to a halt. He stared at Iruka for moment, before blinking a few times in rapid succession.

“Excuse me? Hotel?” he asked, slightly offended.

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” 

Kakashi would have laughed, if Iruka didn’t look a little wrought out. Had they really not discussed this beforehand? 

“For future reference, always be presumptuous with me,” Kakashi said. “I have two nights and three days with you, Iruka. I want it all. What hotel are you definitely _not_ staying at?” 

Iruka’s cheeks flushed, as he averted his eyes.

“The Conch.”

Kakashi swiped open his phone, searched for the hotel, and dialed their number before Iruka even knew what was happening. 

“Hi. I’m calling to cancel the reservation for Iruka Umino. Yeah, he won’t be needing it.” Kakashi said, looking Iruka dead in the eye. “A cancellation fee? Uh… alright. No, don’t use the card on file. I’ll give you a new one.” 

Kakashi reached for his wallet, batting Iruka’s protesting hand away, to give the woman on the other line his information. The minute Kakashi’s name was out of his mouth, excited squealing erupted on the other end of the line. Iruka could hear it, since Kakashi was holding the phone away from his ear with a wince on his face. 

“Ah, no, this isn’t a joke. It’s really me,” Kakashi said, when the screaming died down. “Thank you, that’s very nice, but I’d like to get back to my date now.” 

Kakashi met Iruka’s eyes with a wink. 

* * *

After being stopped by numerous fans on their way out for a photo, they’d finally made it back to Kakashi’s apartment. It was located on the top floor of a short, eight story building. Given Kakashi’s wealth, it was of modest size, though everything inside looked absurdly expensive despite it’s minimalistic style. 

There was something about the sleek space that made Iruka pause. It was almost _too_ clean. The only signs indicating it was lived in were a few scattered houseplants, and a green throw blanket on the back of the couch that looked well-loved. 

“You can drop your bag in my room if you’d like. It’s just upstairs. You can’t miss it.” 

Iruka climbed up the spiral, black metal staircase that twisted in the gap between the kitchen and the living room. Once he reached the top, he understood what Kakashi meant. There was literally nothing else up here. The room was open and spacious, with a large bathroom off to the right. A desk sat in one corner, and Iruka recognized it as the place Kakashi usually skyped him from. It made his heart skip, a bout of excited nerves fluttering around in his belly.

He crossed over to the bed and placed his small suitcase on top of the white comforter. Above the headboard, there was ornate sword mounted inside a thick, black box frame. He eyed it curiously as he unzipped his bag, rifling around for his swimsuit. 

When he came back down, Kakashi was nowhere to seen. It didn’t take long to find him, considering the west facing wall was made entirely of glass. The patio lights had been switched on in his absence, flooding the outside in a soft orange hue. The tall lamps dotting the perimeter were reminiscent of tiki torches, except without the actual flames. 

The outdoor space was nearly as big as the inside. There was a pool, a hot tub, and an extensive gym set up beneath a shade awning. Potted palm trees lined the edge of the balcony, aiding in a sense of privacy, along with a pair of large statues. Kakashi was already in the water, his arms folded along the ledge, silently watching Iruka take it all in. 

Iruka shed his clothes, and tossed them on the couch. He stepped outside wearing a tight black speedo. It wasn’t the only suit he brought, but he wanted to taunt Kakashi a little—payback for when Kakashi stripped his shirt off on their Skype call last week. 

“Iruka.” Kakashi rasped from somewhere deep in his throat, as he watched Iruka walk the length of the pool. “The way you blush is misleading. You’re not modest at all, are you?”

Iruka chose not to respond. Instead, he crossed over to one of the stone statues.

“What are these?” Iruka asked, his back to Kakashi as he traced his fingers over the face of it.

Kakashi tried his damndest to remove his eyes from Iruka’s ass. It was a struggle. 

_“Komainu_. It’s similar to a lion. They typically flank the entrance to a Shinto shrine. It’s said they ward off evil spirits.”

“Huh. They’re beautiful. Though somewhat creepy,” Iruka said, turning around to finally face him. They smiled at each other for seemingly no reason.

“I think that’s the point,” Kakashi chuckled, submerging himself in the water up to his chin. He continued to watch as Iruka explored his patio.

“Do they work?” Iruka asked, perching himself on the edge of a lounge chair.

“Hm?” 

“The _Komainu_. Have they kept evil away?”

Kakashi swallowed, thrown off by the question. If his life was anything to go by, then probably not. 

“They were my dad’s,” Kakashi said, giving a non-answer. “He was a collector.” 

He could feel Iruka studying him, but thankfully he didn’t push it. 

“A collector of _komainu?”_

“Cultural artifacts in general. He was obsessed with samurai specifically.”

“That must explain the sword over the bed,” Iruka teased.

Kakashi let out a small laugh.

“Yeah. There’s a bow around here, too. I can show you it later if you’re interested.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Iruka leaned back in the lounge chair, bending his legs at the knees. He folded his arms behind his head to stare at the sky. It was such a clear night. Even some of the stars were visible amongst the pollution of the city. 

“Iruka.”

“Hm?” Iruka hummed, splaying one of his knees to the side so he could make eye contact, highly aware of the provocative image he was providing.

“Get over here.” 

Iruka managed to smirk, despite how hard his stomach had dropped at Kakashi’s tone, and stood up from the chair. He stepped slowly down the stairs that led into the water, offering Kakashi plenty of time to check him out. 

“God, you’re stunning,” Kakashi said, his eyes landing on a large, dark beauty mark just above and to the right of Iruka’s navel. He wanted to press his lips to it.

The closer Iruka got, the harder Kakashi’s heart pounded. He ached to kiss him again, having re-lived the night they met too many times in his mind to count. When the gap between them was almost nonexistent, Kakashi leaned in for the kiss, but Iruka sank down below the water, swimming right past him. 

Kakashi closed his eyes and bit his lip, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Kakashi was in no mood to be teased; he’d been waiting too long for this. He turned around and pursued him.

When Iruka surfaced, he barely had time to smooth his hair back from his face before Kakashi’s lips were on him. Iruka gasped into the kiss, water dripping into both of their of mouths. He rested a wet hand against Kakashi’s chest, before dropping it to his hip and pulling him close. Kakashi wasted no time offering up his tongue. Iruka happily accepted it into his mouth, stopping occasionally to nip and lick at Kakashi’s lips.

“Fuck, you know how to kiss,” Kakashi hissed, skirting around Iruka’s mouth to kiss along his jaw. “Did I tell you that last time?”

“More or less,” Iruka replied breathlessly, as Kakashi explored his neck. He hadn’t said it in words, but Iruka had been able to tell by how wrecked he had looked. 

Iruka placed his hands on either side of Kakashi’s face and guided his mouth back to his own, capturing him in a deep kiss. Kakashi’s hands slid down the length of Iruka’s back, pausing at the base of his spine, before fully committing to what it was he wanted. He cupped Iruka’s ass in his hands and _groaned_ —the amount of times he had imagined this was also beyond count. He gave it a hard squeeze, backing Iruka up against the pool ledge with a series of desperate kisses. 

Iruka broke away to breathe, dragging his fingers down Kakashi’s chest. He pulled Kakashi flush against him by the band of his trunks, letting out a soft moan as their erections pressed together. 

“Shit,” Iruka cursed, before Kakashi’s lips were back to claim him. 

Kakashi slid his hands to Iruka’s thighs and lifted, his weight easier to handle in the water. Iruka took the hint, wrapping his legs around Kakashi’s waist. Iruka rubbed into him while they made out, feeling the sexual tension built over the past three weeks coming to a head.

Iruka let go of Kakashi’s hair to brace his palms on the pool ledge, and used the strength in this arms to lift himself the rest of the way out. Kakashi quickly settled between his thighs, kissing down Iruka’s chest. He dove for the beauty mark he admired earlier, sucking it into his mouth, before plunging his tongue into Iruka’s navel. 

The sensuality of it forced Iruka to lean back on his hands, his mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, rubbing a heel down Kakashi’s bare back. “Can we…”

“Bed?” Kakashi supplied.

_“Yes.”_

Kakashi moved away from Iruka to lift himself out of the water, too. He pulled Iruka to his feet, before tossing him a towel from a hook on the wall. They poorly patted themselves dry. Iruka tied his towel around his waist, and stepped out of his suit. Kakashi did the same, his trunks hitting the ground with a wet _splat._

They shared a heated look, and scrambled inside. 

Kakashi set Iruka’s suitcase aside, and then whipped the comforter off the bed, throwing it to the floor. He pulled Iruka into a hard kiss, before they both fell into the mattress. Iruka started on his back, the towel still knotted around his waist. Kakashi slipped a hand inside the folds, and began to touch him. Iruka arched into it, his arms moving to encircle Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi pressed his forehead into Iruka’s shoulder.

“Feels amazing to finally touch you,” he said, planting a kiss to Iruka’s collarbone. 

Iruka breathed hard, unable to vocalize his agreement. He rolled them over instead, his towel falling away in the process. He discarded it, letting it to join Kakashi’s on the floor. He sat up to straddle him, and both of their eyes were shamelessly drawn to where their cocks met. 

Kakashi grazed a finger across Iruka’s cock in admiration. 

“D-do you have—,” Iruka asked, unable to look away from Kakashi’s teasing touch.

“—Top drawer.”

Iruka stretched over him to grab it, and Kakashi took the opportunity to lean forward and sink his teeth into Iruka’s ass cheek.

 _“Ah,”_ Iruka gasped, his hand slipping from the drawer handle. He grabbed for it again and wrenched it open. 

He settled back on top of Kakashi’s hips and uncapped the lube. After covering them both, he flung the bottle aside and took them both in hand. 

Kakashi glided his hands up Iruka’s thigh as he watched, stopping to press his thumbs into Iruka’s hips. When he looked up, he caught Iruka staring at him. They locked eyes, and Kakashi was struck by the intensity he found there. It made his breath catch in his throat.

There was something much deeper going on here. Behind the lust, there was a tender adoration swimming in Iruka’s brown eyes. So much so, that Kakashi had to look away in order to not be overwhelmed. He knew there were feelings involved, and that they had ridiculous chemistry, but in the back of his mind, Kakashi had remained insecure. A small part of him feared that they would only have these three days together—Iruka would satiate a celebrity kink, just like everyone else, and then they’d move on.

… but that’s not what Iruka’s look was telling him now. 

Iruka let himself go and focused his grip solely on Kakashi. He shifted on the bed so he could reach Kakashi’s cock with his mouth—he placed a kiss to the head, teasing it with his tongue, all while continuing to stroke him. 

Kakashi closed his eyes, flooded with sensation. He was used to being a prize; something to roughly conquer or be conquered by, so these ministrations of slow devotion were entirely new to him. 

And they were making him come undone far too quickly.

 _“Iruka,”_ Kakashi warned, pressing a palm into his shoulder. 

It only incited Iruka to suck harder.

Kakashi curled a fist around Iruka’s hair, as Iruka pressed a hand into his hip, restraining him from bucking up off the mattress.

Kakashi held in his moan as he came, producing a strangled sort of _mmm_ that burned the back of his throat. 

Iruka crawled up to lay at Kakashi’s side, a sexy smile on his face as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He met Kakashi’s eyes and let out a little laugh, a blush dusting his dark cheeks. 

Kakashi’s heart was stolen right out of his chest.

He got off the bed, circled around to the front, and pulled Iruka swiftly to the edge by his ankles. Iruka sat up, startled, but barely had time to react. Kakashi dropped to his knees, spread Iruka’s legs apart, and took him in deep within the span of a few seconds. 

Iruka felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. He gasped for air, curling his toes, bringing a hand up to twist in Kakashi’s hair.

Kakashi hummed around his cock, knowing the sensation would feel good. He lost himself in pleasuring Iruka, gripping his hips, encouraging him to thrust harder into his mouth. But no matter what he did, it still didn’t feel like enough. He wanted more.

“Stand up, and fuck into my mouth,” Kakashi said, his voice darkened with lust.

Iruka’s eyes blew wide. 

“I’ve seen those hips move,” Kakashi added. “Make them work for me.”

Iruka licked his lips, his fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets, trying to decide what to do. If Kakashi kept talking to him like that, he was going to lose it before anything even happened.

Kakashi peppered kisses along his inner thigh, whispering into his skin:

“Don’t get shy on me.”

Iruka shot up to stand at that, pulling Kakashi’s head back by his hair, searching his eyes for consent again. Kakashi sat back on his heels, opening his mouth in invitation, lying his tongue flat and loose against the base of his mouth. The sight of his pink tongue, wet and waiting, _asking_ , was almost too much for Iruka. He could barely breathe at the display.

“Fuck, Kakashi,” Iruka hissed, his grip tightening on his hair, but still hesitating. 

“Come on,” Kakashi provoked him, sliding a hand down Iruka’s strong calf. “Give it to me.”

Iruka lined his cock up against Kakashi’s mouth with a shaky hand, and slid his way in.

His head fell all the way back, a moan reverberating in his throat. He started to thrust slow, as Kakashi anchored himself in place with hands on Iruka’s thighs. Iruka’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, before picking up his head and opening his eyes. He looked down to find Kakashi staring up at him, a challenge flickering in his eyes. Iruka gave him a sweet smile, before curling his lip into a smirk, and increasing the force of his thrust. 

He truly fucked him then, remaining conscious enough not to hurt Kakashi in the process. The sounds Kakashi was making rivaled his own, and Iruka had no idea who was enjoying it more. When his legs started to wobble, Kakashi wrapped an arm around the back of his thighs to support him.

“K-kashi, I’m gonna—,” Iruka gasped, giving Kakashi time to pull off him if he wanted.

But Kakashi didn’t want Iruka’s cum going anywhere but down his throat (or maybe on his face, but they had time for that later). He took Iruka as deep as he could handle, opening up his throat a little more. He squeezed Iruka’s ass in assurance, and refused to let go until Iruka was through. Iruka came hard with a string of curses tumbling from his lips. 

Iruka sat back down on the bed when he was finished, more from his legs giving out than his own volition. 

“That was unreal,” Iruka said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sounded very real to me,” Kakashi uttered, standing up to kiss him. 

Iruka melted into it, tasting himself on Kakashi’s tongue. 

Kakashi left him to pull back the sheets. He climbed into bed and situated himself in the middle of it.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” he asked, spanning his arms out wide, indicating that Iruka could choose whatever he pleased. 

Iruka circled to the side of the bed, resting a knee on the mattress.

“I don’t have a preference,” he said. “I like to switch,” he added with a quirk of his brow, letting that implication hang in the air. 

Kakashi tugged him down, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

“Oh, I like you. I like you _very_ much,” Kakashi purred into his neck. 

Iruka squirmed as Kakashi’s lips tickled his skin, laughter bubbling out of him. His nerves still felt hypersensitive from the orgasm that was just ripped from him. Their mouths eventually found each other again, making out until neither of them could keep their eyes open. They drifted off to sleep facing one another, Kakashi’s face buried against Iruka’s chest. Iruka’s fingers lazily massaged his scalp, until that movement stopped too, and nothing could be heard aside from their peaceful breathing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: paparazzi & Iruka's short temper o.O


End file.
